Thief In The Night
by Medie
Summary: A little encounter in the night (Archer/T'Pol)


Title: Thief In The Night  
Author: Medie  
Email: medison@thezone.net  
Rating: G  
Pairing: Archer/T'Pol  
Category: drabble, CiaC fic  
Spoilers: None  
Disclaimer: Enterprise belongs to Paramount and all their ilk. I'm not affiliated with   
Paramount, Viacom or whatever. No money exchanged hands for the production of this fanfic.  
Summary: A little exchange during the night.  
  
Thief In the Night  
by Medie  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
  
She came awake neatly, without fanfare, and immediately became aware of the reason why.   
Briefly, she experienced a twinge of annoyance before suppressing the reaction. It was   
illogical to feel annoyance at an unconscious act.  
  
A shiver raced through her chilled form and the annoyance returned. Perhaps it was not   
so illogical. She was quite cold.  
  
It occurred to her then, that her left side was experiencing warmth. The Vulcan looked   
down to see, outlined in the darkness, the small form of a beagle pressed against her body.  
  
She raised one eyebrow, resting her hand on the dog's head. "He has done it again."  
  
Porthos heaved a sigh which, to T'Pol, sounded like his agreement on the matter.   
Reflexively, she rubbed his head, watching the beagle's eyes close in ecstasy.  
  
It was easy to see why humans loved canines so. The majority of them needed minimal   
affection at the very least and responded with an incredible level of adoration and   
affection. Porthos had no concerns as to whether or not she behaved as a Vulcan should  
or shouldn't. As well, he did not weigh his acceptance of her by the flawed standards   
many humans seemed to.  
  
She allowed herself a soft sigh before shifting her position, being mindful not to   
disturb Porthos, and surveyed her bedmate.  
  
Or, more accurately, she surveyed the bundle of bed covers that contained him. "Jon?"   
She spoke firmly but, to her inwardly rueful note, she did sound annoyed.  
  
Receiving no response, she tried again, pitching her voice at a louder level. "Jon."  
  
The bundle moaned softly, moving ever so slightly, but quickly settled again.  
  
T'Pol pressed her lips together briefly, sharing a long suffering look with Porthos,   
then tried for the third time. "Jonathan!"  
  
"Huh? Wha..?"  
  
Success! A tiny, faint voice exulted smugly but she quashed the thought instinctively.  
Moments later, Jonathan Archer's disheveled hair and groggy face emerged from the cover  
and she found herself reining in a surge of affection. It was illogical to find his   
rumpled appearance sexually stimulating yet she could not deny the thrill that raced  
through her before she'd been able to stop it.  
  
"You have once again taken the covers." She explained, her voice as even and as level  
as if she were sitting at her station on Enterprise's bridge, briefing him on the   
ship's status. "I am cold as is Porthos."  
  
Shaking his head to clear it of drowsiness, Jon blinked sleepily at her. "What?"  
  
Raising one eyebrow, T'Pol reached out to tug lightly on the top blanket. "You   
have taken the covers."  
  
He sat up and, though it was difficult to see in the darkness, she knew he was   
blushing lightly. "Oh...sorry."  
  
She regarded him with something akin to loving affection lurking in her dark gaze.  
"It is illogical to apologize for an unconscious act."  
  
Archer chuckled, untangling the sheets from his body and rearranging them to cover  
them both. "Illogical indeed." Once he had the covers tucked in around her and   
Porthos, he turned onto his side, draping an arm across her midsection.  
She moved closer to him, fitting her form against his, and he felt the heat of her   
body, warmer than human-norm, radiate into his. After kissing the tip of her   
delicately arched ear he rested his head on the pillow beside her, murmuring a   
drowsy, " G'night, T'Pol."  
  
"Good Night, Jon." She replied softly.  
  
The peaceful silence that accompanies sleep enfolded them and they began to drift  
away once more until T'Pol spoke quietly. "Jonathan?"  
  
"Mmm...Yea...T'Pol?"  
  
"Please try not to abscond with the silverware while you sleep."  
  
"Yes, dear." At his reply her eyebrow began to creep upwards until his next words  
stopped its progress. "And put that eyebrow down. It's a human endearment."  
  
"Understood."  
  
He chuckled into her hair. "Go to sleep, T'Pol."  
  
"Yes....dear."  
  
Finis 


End file.
